Spalding Gray

Spalding Gray’s style of writing is captivating, humorous, and relatable. Although I often find myself, for some reason, growing restless when I read a book without chapters to divide the reading, Gray’s conversational flair made the whole reading affair of Swimming to Cambodia an effortless blur. The book, as well as his article in Rolling Stone is the Gonzo-esque stream-of-consciousness, which allows the reader enormous insight not only into the thoughts of the author, but also his thinking process.

Gray’s mind, from what I gleam from his writing, works much in the way you might expect a self-professed “aging hippie wanderer’s” would. As he recalls his journey filming The Killing Fields Gray is often interrupted by off-topic ramblings on his opinions or vignette-like short story tangents on related characters or events. Despite his rampant ADD, he managed to more than captivate me by revealing his own enlightened sense of reality. As interesting as his journey in Thailand is in itself, I found that it was really his uniqueness as an individual that kept me reading, and the fact that his quirks are odd enough to be funny but still sane enough to be relatable.

One of his idiosyncrasies was the need to experience the “Perfect Moment” when vacationing. His conscious search for a moment that deeply moved him was at once funny and thought provoking. When he eventually finds the perfect moment, it sneaks up on him. Reflecting upon my own travel experiences, those moments tend to come when least expected.

His actual moment, which occurred while swimming far out from shore in the Indian Ocean, is surreal. He speaks of becoming part of the ocean, and feeling an “enormous disconnection from Mother Earth.” This quazi-spiritual connection with his surroundings lies in stark contrast to his actions upon returning home to the United States to see his girlfriend Renee, where he describes himself as whiney, uninspired, and unhappy.

Although I’m not sure if there is a message meant to be extracted from this, I think perhaps he was unintentionally commenting on the way American culture can, at times, be a soul crushing experience. While in Thailand, he lived a life of true freedom. His expenses were covered by the film more or less, he was provided with room, board, and booze (not to mention mushrooms and pot), and any sort of sexual fulfillment he desired was at his fingertips. Although this sort of life style is anything but sustainable in the long run, it offered him a stress less environment in which he was open to having such spiritual revelations. Ironically, he attributes his ability to let go his “theory of Displacement of Anxiety,” where he worries about his money getting stolen on the beach over getting eaten by a shark in the ocean.

Film Sequence Blog

The scene opens with Sydney making a long walk from the back of a large room at some unspecified award ceremony, presumably for his work in Cambodia, looking stern. The lighting is high key, appropriate for the circumstances, but also an indication of the publicity of the place. Sydney receives abundant applause but does not look pleased, and instead spends his entire speech talking of the inadequacies of the US government and how the award should be award to Pran, not him. He speaks of Pran as an equal and a fellow journalist, a marked departure from when he first works with Pran in Cambodia and treats him more as an intern.

The scene then cuts to a tracking shot of a jovial-looking man in large glasses, walking briskly through the crowd at what appears to be a reception for the award event. The man passes Sydney and does not acknowledge him, but the camera ceases tracking and settles on Sydney. I found this small sequence slightly confusing to interpret. Initially I passed it off as fancy but unnecessary camera work, but under closer inspection, it may carry more meaning. The expression on the mans face is happy and excited, and when the camera settles on Sydney it shows his expression as perfunctory and bored. Sydney quickly there after excuses himself to the rest-room, an escape from the crowd. He seems uncomfortable with the people at the event, as if he were more accustomed to the rough, hot life in Cambodia, and was still yet experiencing American culture shock that inevitably accompanies one on their return home from a developing country.

The bathroom is low-key lighting, and much quieter than the noisy bustle of the party. A young man approaches Sydney and asks for an autograph, saying he is a “big fan.” Sydney looks surprised by this, as if he was unaware people liked his work. He agrees almost as an afterthought, and as he signs the paper, Al walks into the rest room. The exchange between Sydney and Al is much different than any in the past. Al, too, looks bitter and exhausted, having changed a lot since we were first introduced to him in the beginning of the film. While we have previously seen Al as light hearted and occasionally aloof, here he appears angry. Their heated exchange ends with Sydney shouting “You can’t get onto a god damn plane and make the whole world come out alright!”

Later, a camera tracks Sydney’s sister cleaning up a kitchen late at night in low-key lighting. The television is playing off screen, and Sydney is curled in a chair, out of focus, in the background. The television is playing a news clip of Sydney with a reporter, and he is curt and frustrated. The reporter asks him about his next project and Sydney responds, “I don’t understand the purpose of your question.” When his sister comes in, he turns off the television and begins talking to her, as if she were a therapist. Instead of looking her in the eyes, he toys with his shoes. He discusses the guilt he feels for leaving Pran in Cambodia, and how he “never really gave him a chance to leave.” As Sydney speaks, angles switch from portraying him to portraying his sister, so that the audience can see her pained expression. It is clear from this that she also suffers from Sydney’s bout of depression as well, as she takes care of him. The scene ends as Sydney looks up, but not at the camera, with tears in his eyes. “He stayed because I wanted him to… I stayed because….”

The scene fades into the next, an unmoving shot of a dead body in a field of Cambodia. Instead of allowing Sydney to finish his sentence, the director chose to allow you to interpret his motives for staying in Cambodia through the next image. Sydney stayed in Cambodia because he was reporting the news, and the brutality of the civil war was definitely news. 

NYT Cambodia coverage

It is interested to examine the political sides taken by the reporters in these articles. I noticed while reading that at times it seemed like the reporters were taking strong moral stances against the war without suggesting plausible political solutions. The New York Times article “Children Starving in Once-Lush Land,” besides its dramatic title, is filled with sob-stories about children suffering from malnutrition and over-crowded hospitals. It points the finger of blame at insufficient US humanitarian aid, but at the same time acknowledges that the city is entirely reliant on American supply for survival. It was frustrating to see a reporter editorialize an article to such an extent without suggesting an improved solution.

A common thread throughout the articles is the separation of Cambodian civilians from the civil war. They are portrayed as unwilling victims of political tragedy. In fact, the articles seem so focused on the civilian plight that they forget to detail what the insurgents are actually fighting about. It takes until article 4 to discuss the Khmer Rouge, and even then the details surrounding their mission are hazy. They are described as a rag tag collection of rebel factions, with unclear leadership and no goal other than over throwing Lon Nol. It seems to be unclear if they are even communists.

As the articles progress, Marshal Lon Nol, the military leader ruling Cambodia during the war, is portrayed as incompetent. His first introduction tells only his name and his rise to power through a bloodless coup. The second introduction portrays him as helpless and limping. He calls a press conference to instill confidence in reporters, which recorded in full in the NYT as “’I wish you a nice morning,’ he says ‘We wish you a nice morning, too,’ a reporter replies. The interview is over.” On his third introduction, he is described as “a superstitious mystic who has been partly crippled since a stroke four years ago.” His title as ruler of Cambodia is conspicuously absent from this elongated epithet. 

Twilight Los Angeles 1992 Movie

Seeing the movie form of Twilight Los Angeles 1992 forced me to reconsider some judgments I made during my reading of the play. Anna Smith’s interpretation of the characters, drawn directly from her encounters with the real people she portrays, shows their attitudes to the events, in some cases, as much different from the way I read the monologues.

For example, when I initially read “Heads in Shame,” I thought the speaker was bitter, almost angry. Heads in Shame is spoken by a male juror of the first Rodney King trial. He speaks condemningly of his encounters with the press after the verdict was announced, and deeply questions the reactions of the public. While reading this and later discussing it with classmates, I inferred the inflection of his voice to be laden with the bitterness of having to endure the consequences of a verdict he still perceived to be just.

Instead, Smith portrays the man as quiet, reserved, and deeply sad. In retrospect, this seems to be a much more real emotional response. After all the time that elapsed between the trial and the interview with Smith, it makes sense that bitterness and anger towards an unfeeling mob would dissolve, and all that remains would be the profound unhappiness with the unfortunate turn in his life. He speaks of his privacy being blatantly violated by the press, and in turn receiving support from the KKK, which he viewed as further condemnation of his actions.

                The portrayal of the riot participants was also enlightening. All riot participants (who, coincidentally, happen to be black) are depicted in a mad frenzy, wildly destructing the props placed haphazardly around the stage with no purpose beyond devastation for its own sake. This discounts the political undertones of the riots by showing the aimless targeting of victims and property, yet perfectly communicates the collective “blind rage” that overtook South Central after the verdicts.

                The director also made an interesting choice by intertwining the monologues of Daryl Gates, the Chief of LAPD, and June Park, a Korean whose husband was killed by rioters. Parks emotional testimony about the needless death of her husband contrasts harshly with Gates’ casual, careless defense of his inaction during the first hours of rioting. The scene truly touches on the divide between the police and the victims. When faced with the danger of confronting the mob with an understaffed force of officers, the LAPD repeatedly choose to wait out the horde. Meanwhile, people such as Reginald Denny were being beaten nearly to death, with no repercussions for the aggressors. The scene, to bystanders, the media, and the rioters was thus determined to be a free-for-all, which perpetuated violence.

Twilight Los Angeles 1992

Twilight Los Angeles attempts to demonstrate the public reactions to Rodney King through a series of interviews translated into monologues by the author.  The monologues are hyper-realistic, with little abridgment to make them more palatable to read or act out. Verbal ticks, such as “ums” and hesitations, remain imbedded amongst profound thoughts on social equality, creating for the reader a surreal stream of consciousness enveloping an entire community. For me, the play created a wide angle snapshot of reactions in Los Angeles during 1992, artificially constructing a universal conscience that shows the wide range of emotions elicited by the Rodney King trials.

Smith spends most of her time focusing on the racial issues at hand, and does so by examining as many perspectives as she can. From the lawyers defending to the police and government officials to black community leaders and riot participants, she truly attempts to examine every angle she can, but always with the goal of highlighting the racial issues at stake.

 From the point of view of the LA gang member, the riots “Show how a black person gets treated in this [South Central] community” (p100).  Blacks’ perceptions of the police force become clear through throughout the monologues. Police are seen as the “enemy” sending the black community to jail or “the cemetery” (p32). They describe the city as “being at war with its own children.” (p29) It becomes clear that tolerance for the loose ethical standards of the police department was an ineffective method for change, akin even to complacency. Stories are told throughout the play of previous encounters with the brutal LAPD, whom are accepted as racist ruffians without much thought considering their history amongst South Central residents. I found this to

While many blacks did not approve of the riots, their sentiments are made clear by scholar Cornel West, stating “The best we can do is hold up a bloodstained banner of a black struggle that is rooted in moral vision and yet acknowledging the fact that a power struggle will be fundamental for any change.” (p45) This begins the internal debate between morality and meaningful action for the black community, and whether both can be achieved in tandem under the circumstances present in LA.

When a community is systematically beaten and broken, what place does that leave for morality? Frustration overflows in absurd demonstrations of rage, massive anarchical riots with no purpose other than to demonstrate the anger of the disenfranchised. For the so-called-powerless, the simple act of defying authority can inspire the illusion of social power, even though its ultimate consequences are further social marginalization. As a US congresswoman from California said, “The fact of the matter is, whether we like it or not, riot is the voice of the unheard.” (p162)

The voice speaking for the rioters in LA didn’t seem to make sense to a lot of people. Perhaps it was the fact that this view of the world had been so suppressed that its entry into the public sphere of thought had to be rammed into people’s minds with constant scenes of violence. As bystanders, we lament the victimization of innocent people like Reginald Denny, who was senselessly beaten into a coma when pulled from his truck by rioters for an offence that “didn’t have anything to do with [him]” (p104). The riots might have made a strong impression on Americans about the unforeseen power of those we considered toothless, but it deepened the cultural rift that is the root cause for inequality to begin with.

“This is not my united states anymore. This is sicko.” (p93) This comes from a reporter for the LA Times who was reviewing media from the riots. Riots are not how decent, civilized people react to things that did not go as they expected. Moreover, the mass hysteria captured by footage of the riots portrays faceless black aggressors as animal predators preying senselessly on whites. They seem devoid of regular human reactions. “If you saw an animal being beaten, you would go over and help an animal.” (p95) Without fully understanding the years of frustration being vented in physical antagonism, rioters are easily viewed by the public as irrational and dangerous.

The truth behind the situation is harder to discern then initially thought. The attorney who defended Officer Briseno, one of the officers who beat Rodney King, found the public reaction to the second trial’s verdicts almost as troubling as the riots. When President Clinton publically announced that “Justice had finally been served” to the police officers responsible, all he could think was “What does he know?... Is it the truth of Koon and Powell being guilty, or is it the truth of the society that has to find them guilty in order to protect itself?” (p243). 

Chapters 15-18

The author makes a point to display King as a completely reformed man from what we had seen of him previously. During the Simi Valley trial, Cannon presents the prosecution as extremely nervous about King's testimony. He was shown to be easily confused and self-contradicting, a trait that isn't valuable to a witness that has to stand up to tough cross-examination.  The “new” King is attributed all of the traits of the perfect parenthetical victim of brutish police force. Cannon describes him as “earnest… decent, friendly, vulnerable, and intellectually limited” and having a “ring of truth” to a “sympathetic jury.” (P 428)

Although Cannon does not mention this explicitly, King's new-found confidence is most likely attributed to the publicity he experienced in the wake of all the events preceding the second trial. “Their eyes were riveted on King as he strode commandingly into the courtroom.” (P 423) He was at the very center of a media frenzy, and had to gain some semblance of proper composure during this time. The effect is clearly portrayed when King first enters the court.

Cannon also seems to be playing on the notion, much as he did in describing the verdicts of the first trial, that it was a combination of external factors and luck that lead to the decision reached. During the first trial, Cannon painstakingly re-enacts the case to show where the defense got lucky breaks, and delves into the anatomy of the jury in order to point to the fact that it was highly biased. While that perspective is entirely believable for the first trial, I find it difficult to not simply attribute the outcome of the second trial to a true act of justice. Of course every decision is effected by outside influences, a fact that the US Justice system tries to negate by sheltering jurors from the world around them. But in the wake of the LA riots of 1992, no new media coverage was needed to influence the jurors.

Cannon points out in Chapter 17 (called The Thirteenth Juror) that fear played a huge role in the decision making process for those deciding the officer's legal fate. He attempts to show how it was nearly impossible for any juror to not convict the police, as fear of a violent rebuttal by the slums of South Central still lingered heavily in the backs of their minds only a year later. He cites jurors that missed their families, worried about their homes, and were fearful of the safety of their children if the officers were not convicted. He alludes that the jury did not reach a decision based on their personal conclusions from the facts stated, but rather more as a representative of the "collective village" referred to in the defense's closing remarks.
The defense comments in its closing arguments that King was not allowed the benefit of a jury when he was pulled over, and his punishment was dealt out to him not through the legal process but by a thug-group of cops with metal batons. On the flipside, however, one can see that during the second trial the police were not afforded the personal conclusions of the jury that is the cornerstone of American justice. Rather, their trial was conducted on a 24-hour news cycle of CNN, where the whole world witnessed the consequences of their inadequacies. Conclusive judgment had been made long before the second trial began, and the citizens of the United States were no longer interested in the real events that occured when King was beaten. Instead, they were more concerned with the consequences of each verdict, and decided who was guilty for a crime by placing the ends before the means.

Rodney King According to the NYT

A speeding black motorist was pulled over and senselessly beaten by an entourage of three officers while twelve other officers spectated. The event was taped in full by a resident awakened by the disturbance outside his window, and has been widely circulated amongst news media. The publicity surrounding the beating has caused calls by many public officials for Chief of Los Angelos Police Daryl Gates to resign from his long-held post. These indignant calls have been answered in only by curt refusal by the Chief.

The victim of the beating, Rodney “Glen” King, sustained innumerable injuries to his entire body from the beating, in which the police tased King twice, and beat him over 50 times with metal batons. He now walks with a cane, and his mental stability is in question. Weeks after the incident, police pulled King over again for illegally tinted windows and found him in the company of a transvestite prostitute. In a separate incident, King notified authorities that he believed two undercover officers were about to kill him. Furthermore, King’s testimony regarding the event has been largely contradictory, both to himself and to the video record.

A study commissioned by the city of Los Angelos has concluded that race was a determining factor in the incident. The study cites that members of the LAPD “repetitively use excessive force against the public and persistently ignore the written guidelines of the department regarding force.” The report spells further condemnation for Chief Gates, who has greeted it by calling it old news.

The results of the ongoing trial seem inevitable in face of irrefutable evidence of the video and the harsh indictment of the report. 

Official Negligence

Luo Cannon, in an attempt to provide historical context for the Rodney King event, points to a study performed in the 1980’s regarding the conditions of South Central Los Angelos. The report details the squalid conditions of the ghetto, its heavy racial and class tensions, and its dim economic future in contrast to the booming downtown. He cites the report as an ominous warning gone completely unheeded, as if the LA riots of 1992 were a simple matter of prediction and prevention.

 In hindsight, one can see that the dismal conditions in South Central created the perfect storm for chaos, a blend of social angst, extreme poverty, and rules established by gangsters rather than government. Cannon alludes to the notion that, had there been some sort of official intervention to help South Central residents, no great tragedy would have occurred to begin with. He points to the blundering economic mistakes made by the California administration, citing the fact that nearly 25% of employers planned to move their business’ outside the state due to its distressing regulatory requirements.

Yet Cannon offers no clear path for South Central, other than untangling the jungle of bureaucracy that is California’s government to ease job flight. The plight of poverty plays a leading role in the making of the riots, but so does a history of injustice for the underprivileged. In Chapter 5, he discusses the common sentiment among South Central residents that fair trials were often not afforded to members of the lower class due to racial stigma, yet addresses no racial issues in his opening chapter. It almost alludes to the idea that racial tension is a fantasy invented by the impoverished to explain their difficult life, and justify their opposition to police forces that hinder their “lifestyles.” For the residents of South Central, however, racial tension is very real, as can be clearly seen in the violent reaction to what they viewed as a racist decision to acquit the white authorities involved with Rodney King.

Knowing little about the series of events that led to his capture, I was surprised by the extensive steps the officers took during the arrest to avoid the beating. Cannon illustrates the confusion felt by the arresting officers in a simple and elegant fashion. By allowing the reader to see every perspective from different eyes, the chaos of perceptions is made clear. Cannon writes of the officers with deference and makes an effort to depict the actions in connection with their emotional stimulants, muddled by the din and the adrenaline. His painstakingly detailed account of what went through each party’s mind during the incident reveals an sensation we are all familiar with; that of panic. In a sense, the admission that the men in question are emotional creatures removes their dehumanizing uniforms and the social stigma of their position, allowing them to be judged in a clearer light than that cast by the New York Times or CNN.

At the same time, it becomes difficult to feel empathy for the police when the story is detailed from the opposite perspective. King was not drunk, not “dusted” as the cops believed, and Cannon portrays him not as a cornered dog but scared and confused. Although the officers were fueled by the passion of the moment, for the majority of the 81-second beating they were hitting a limp, unconscious body.

The ACLUs response to the King incident struck me. They produced a publicity campaign saying, “Who do you call when the gang wears blue uniforms?” Indeed, when asked why he didn’t call the police when he was video taping the beating of King, Holiday responds, “They were there,” (page 50). The course of action you take when you are being oppressed by the people who are supposed to protect you is confusing. No doubt, some of the police bystanders at the scene felt the same way, with a respected authority figure directing the beating, what is there to do but stand aghast? 

New York Times’ Rodney King Coverage

The articles from the New York Times flow much like any long term interest news story would during Rodney King’s trial. In the first report chronicling the incident, race is not specifically mentioned until the last 2 paragraphs, as if it were an afterthought. King’s defense attorney is said to have not even brought up the issue of race during the trail. The whole cast seem to be oblivious to the magnitude of the future implications of the court proceedings.

When the verdict is reached by the Jurors, the tone of the articles change. The reader can sense a certain disbelief in the reporter’s words. In all their analysis and predictions about the case, this fit into none of them, and their words turn from half-interest to flabbergast. The change in tone is appropriate, of course, because the reporters are now reporting on a situation more akin to a popular uprising then a court story. As verbal arguments dissolve into burning storefronts, there is a palpable fear in the writing, “The City of Angels endured another siege of violence today with an acrid smell of smoke in its nostrils and a cold stone of fear heavy on its heart.” (NYT, May 1, 1992, RIOTS IN LOS ANGELES: The Scene; Smell of Fear in Los Angeles)

The psychology of 81 seconds of adrenaline fueled hatred seems to spread into a massive anarchic chaos, a dark circus crawling from the rift in society left by racism and socio-economic unbalance. In a flash, the accepted racial roles become comically reversed, and for a while those who are used to the security ensured by their social status now see it as a life threatening liability.

In contrast, the bedlam has a strange unifying effect for Rodney King supporters. What the New York Times describes as a frenzy of looting and a “Marathon of Stealing,” is dubbed by one participant as a statement of unity. “This is about the black community coming together.” (NYT, May 1, 1992, The Sacking of a Neighborhood: An Orgy of Looting, a Carnival of Chaos)

The universal violent outbreak that occurred after the verdict was clearly a deep seeded anger welling from years of institutionalized police harassment, but many similar injustices have occurred to the black community in the past without this widespread backlash. Perhaps it was the media’s viral captivation with the shocking viciousness portrayed in the amateur footage of the attack, and its quick saturation through modern mediums into households across LA.

It may have also been that King happened to have the unfortunate coincidence of a last name with the great civic leader Martin Luther King, Jr. Several references are made to him as the “second King,” yet Rodney displays no signs of wanting to lead social change in LA. He is quoted saying “And just, I love, I'm neutral, I love every, I love people of color. I'm not like they're picking me out to be.” (NYT, May 2, 1992, Rodney King Speaks Out: 'Can We All Get Along?') He is depicted as stuttering, easily confused, and gullible. He does not yield the power to inspire people to work peacefully together for social justice like the “other King” before him. This unfortunate weakness does not incite, but certainly precipitates, the violence of the riots.